Mornings After
by JuniperLemon
Summary: Hunter Dean first meets Sam after a one night stand. It unexpectedly develops into something more. Not Brothers AU
1. Chapter 1

The sound of clanking and clashing of pots pulled Dean from his deep slumber. He groaned as the hangover hit him full force causing his skull to thump, stomach slosh and throat feel as though a desert had taken up residence there.

His bed was soft and his head sunk into the, what felt like, feather pillows. That fact alone made his eyes burst open despite the pain that radiated from his head. He pushed himself up and away from the, probably memory foam, mattress to peer around at his surroundings. Sitting up caused his ass to ache slightly which confused him more than anything else.

He froze. What the hell, he muttered under his breath. This was definitely not a motel room, no wonder the bed seemed so luxurious. This was a bedroom and appeared to be a civilian's bedroom, judging by the lack of salt by the windows and lack of weapons littered about the room. Ignoring his hangover, Dean internally celebrated how he'd apparently gotten laid. Pulling himself up further, to sit up straight with the blanket pooled on his lap, he glanced around in more detail.

Books were in an over stuffed bookshelf and an expensive looking laptop sat on a desk by the window. It was all pretty minimalist but something felt odd. There wasn't a single picture of friends on the wall in a pink fluffy frame, no makeup or hair accessories were strewn onto the desk and most importantly there was not a feminine colour in the room; only dark greys and blues.

Dean's clothes were folded over the back of the desk chair neatly, making Dean wonder how long the home owner had been awake. Slipping in his jeans and shirt, he silently prayed that the person he'd slept with last night was the woman on the screensaver rather than one of the men, although one of them, the tall one, was kind of handsome.

He decided that the best way to find out would be to go and look outside of this room. He took a deep breath and readied himself for the reveal. He was reaching out to grasp the handle to the door when it opened from the other side revealing a man. Shit, Dean muttered.

The guy was tall, towering over him, and had a sheepish smile on his face. It was the man from the laptop screen saver. His long hair flopped around eyes which didn't particularly help to hide the blush on his cheeks. He was obviously well built under his plaid shirt; it made Dean chuckle as it was typical hunter's wear. The large man held out a plate with pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs on it like a peace offering. He held the plate with arms stretched out like he was scared to come too close to Dean in case he'd spook the hunter.

Shocked, Dean peered down at the food before it finally registered and he accepted the plate. He followed the large man back though to the small kitchen where the man's own breakfast lay in wait.

"Sorry," The guy mumbled, "I thought you were still asleep." The blush crept down his neck and under the plaid shirt.

"Just woke up then..." He wasn't expecting his voice to sound so raspy but it made sense considering that he couldn't remember any of the night before. His head was still demanding his attention too with its incessant pounding.

Dean pulled himself up onto a stool, wincing at his ass ache, so he could eat at the countertop opposite his host. He threw his leather jacket over the back of his high stool. The guy must have noticed the croaking of his voice as moments later a glass of water was slid across the table toward him. Dean took a grateful gulp and when he peered back down two painkillers had appeared beside his plate. He gazed up at the man but he was focused on his own breakfast almost acting as though he hadn't just been the perfect caretaker. It was kinda weird for Dean as nobody tended to hang around and predict his every need.

He really wanted to remember what happened last night. All he knew so far was that he'd apparently gotten very drunk and come home with a giant of a man. He wondered if he'd slept with him. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been with a man but the other couple of times had only been experimental. The burn in his ass also suggested that he'd in fact bottomed which was definitely a new experience for him.

The breakfast was absolutely delicious and if Dean knew more about this guy then he'd probably fill the silence by asking for the recipe. Not that the silence was awkward as the other man seemed happy enough just focusing on his breakfast and newspaper which was spread in front of him. He had the feel of someone who was satisfied with silence and never felt the compulsion to fill it with mindless drivel. Dean supposed that this may come from living alone as it appeared that the man did.

He wanted to address the man and compliment his home although it was slightly too minimalist for Dean's tastes; it was the polite thing to do. He coughed, trying to get the guy's attention. Knowing his name would make it all so less awkward.

Without looking up, the large man replied, "My name is Sam." He said it like a person would upon first meeting someone, not with the disgust of someone who was reminding someone after a night of heavy of drinking.

"Oh, mine's-" He started.

"Dean. Yeah, I know." He flicked the page easily still not looking up. Dean was slightly grateful for that as he didn't think that he could deal with eye contact right now.

He couldn't help but feel overwhelming guilty as he'd obviously disregarded Sam's name at some point during the night while the other man had clearly remembered. He scooped some eggs into his mouth and was reminded again of how wonderful the flavours were. Diner food will never compare. He wished that his stomach would stop sloshing and start being more appreciative.

"This is so good." Dean said around the food and gestured to the plate.

Sam's eyes lit up and dimples pulled into his cheeks as a grin broke out on his lips. He seemed insanely proud of himself. It made Dean's lips twitch up into a smile, "Thank you! You mentioned last nig-," Sam stopped himself and changed what he was going to say, "Yesterday... You mentioned yesterday that you apparently loved pancakes."

"Oh," Dean thought for a moment, "I don't remember that..."

"I didn't think you would," The smile only wavered momentarily, "At that point you were saying pretty much anything and everything." There was a pause and Sam bit his lip as he considered something, "Maybe you might want to work on keeping the whole hunting thing a secret while intoxicated..."

Dean froze. What did he just say? He knew? He told him all about hunting? His eyes darted around the apartment in a search for an exit to just leg it. Panic twisted his features and he wanted to vomit. What was he going to do now?

Sensing his panic, Sam reached out a hand and held Dean's. He waited for the hunter to look into his eyes before addressing him. His eyes were stern and features strong. It was his no messing face.

"Dean, calm down. I know anyway." He soothed. His thumb rubbed small circles into Dean's wrist in a calming motion.

"You... Know?" Dean blinked up at the man in confusion.

"There was an accident a little while ago which led to my girlfriend's death. Apparently, it was demons or something. That's what Bobby said anyway..." He mumbled the last sentence seemingly upset about the loss of his girlfriend but Dean just focused on the name that was barely whispered.

"Bobby? Bobby Singer?!" Dean wanted to rip his hair out, this was such a small world. Of course this guy would know Bobby.

Sam nodded, strands of hair falling over his eyes. He looked innocent and young making Dean feel bad for him. It was horrible to see anyone get dragged into this world let alone while they're so young.

"Dude, I'm sorry..." His manners caught up with him quickly.

Sam waved off the apology, "Don't worry about it. Say, you look like crap so why don't you take a quick shower before you go... It's the least I can do." Sam was correctly assuming that Dean would want to dash almost as soon as he'd woken up. Sam wouldn't allow that; he'd make sure that his guest was fed, watered and clean before allowing him to leave.

Dean was about to refuse but Sam was already pushing him off towards the bathroom while piling a large towel into his arms. It was warm, large and fluffy so basically, everything Dean wasn't used to in a towel. He silently cursed motels under his breath. Sam forced him inside the bathroom and shut the door behind the hunter leaving him all alone. Dean couldn't help but chuckle at Sam's hospitality.

"Oh and there's soaps, body washes and shampoos in the cabinet under the sink. Help yourself to whatever ones you fancy although there's an old spice one that's pretty nice." His voice got quieter as he wandered around his apartment, cleaning up and rearranging furniture.

Dean rolled his eyes but rummaged around the cabinet anyway. Sam was right, the Old Spice one did smell really nice. He found himself wondering whether Sam used this one every day or just for special occasions. He also wondered whether he'd used it before he'd gone out and picked him up.

The whole idea that he'd bottomed with a guy for the first time ever hadn't seemed to have settled on Dean yet but he didn't really think that it'd changed much. He'd always known that he'd held an interest in the same sex but had never built up the courage to explore beyond his first few encounters.

He fiddled with the shower knobs with the uncertainty of every person who has ever used an unfamiliar shower. He twisted one and the shower burst to life, sending streams of powerful jet powered water onto his head. Dean yelped loudly as the water was practically freezing. He jumped back from under the powerful spray.

"Hot water is the one on the bottom!" Dean could hear Sam call from the other room.

He twisted the knob allowing hot water to cascade over his aching muscles and wash away any grime or sweat on his skin. The shower was like heaven in comparison to what the motels usually provided. For one, there was actually hot water. For two, it was powerful enough to remove the kinks from the muscles in his neck.

He didn't want to be long as he didn't know whether Sam had to leave for work or something but he wished that he could spend hours in here. He stepped out of the shower after a few moments of trying to switch it off and wrapped the towel around his wet hips. He peered down at himself and couldn't help but wonder what parts of his body had Sam touched, kissed or trailed his fingers across. A shiver fell down his spine and he found that he really wasn't opposed to those thoughts at all. If anything, his body relished in the fantasy.

The bathroom was steamy and smelled like Old Spice. Dean slipped back into his clothes and wandered back through to the living room. Sam had paper piled up in neat piles on his countertop and his hand quickly jotted down words, making amendments to the typed sheets. Sam looked up and smiled as he entered. Dean found his lips automatically pulling up in return.

"Hey... You don't hunt, do you?" He asked just to make sure.

Sam shook his head, "Sometimes Bobby will call me if he needs something done legally or if he needs an alibi or sometimes if there's some information he needs help finding but I don't really get involved with the nitty-gritty of the actual hunts."

Feeling a swell of protection towards the tall man, Dean nodded thankfully, "That's good. What do you actually do then... Like as a day job?"

A smile forced dimples into the man's cheeks, "I'm a lawyer." He said with the pride of someone that really liked that they did.

"Woah. Really?"

Sam laughed which caused butterflies to blossom in Dean's stomach, "I know. It doesn't seem like it, right?"

"Definitely not." Dean agreed as he watched the man work for a second. He briefly wondered if maybe he was intruding now and over staying his welcome but Sam seemed content so he permitted himself to stay in his presence for a little while longer.

He sat in the stool opposite Sam. The tall man didn't react aside from moving a paper slightly to the left casually. The action meant that the client's name at the top was covered and Dean guessed that it was one of those lawyer-client confidentiality agreement things. The corner of his mouth perked up and he felt an emotion something akin to pride. It was as though he was proud of Sam for being so dedicated to his work and clients which didn't make sense because he barely knew the guy.

He watched him work for an unknown amount of time as he got lost in the way his pen marked the paper and writing got squished in between the lines. Sam didn't seem to mind as he continued as though he didn't have an enthralled audience. It was Sam's smooth voice that eventually snapped him out of his trance.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked suddenly so the hunter nodded, "Will you be stopping at the salvage yard in the next few weeks?"

Dean considered this, he hadn't planned to stop at Bobby's but he could make a detour. It had been a while since he visited the older man anyway so maybe it was about time.

"Not for a week or so but soon yeah. Why?" Dean did have a few hunts lined up that he'd have to deal with before making a stop at Bobby's but he'd definitely stop.

Sam nodded for a second and chewed his bottom lip, "Will you promise me that this will find its way into his hands?" Sam opened a kitchen draw and pulled out a small white envelope. 'Bobby' was written on the front in his small handwriting. He held it still in both hands before holding it out for Dean to take.

Dean looked up into Sam's eyes. They were dark with worry and he was obviously taking a risk by putting his trust in Dean but there was also hope in his features. With all the sincerity he could muster, Dean nodded and accepted the letter into his possession. He slipped it into the inside pocket of the leather jacket that hung from the back of his stool.

He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to get on the road and head straight to Bobby's despite the other hunts that awaited him. He stood, pulled his jacket from the chair and threw it on quickly. The action caused Sam to peer up from his work.

"I've gotta go now," He said easily. He'd never felt so relaxed after a one night stand that he couldn't even remember. That scared him slightly. He felt so welcome around Sam that he almost didn't want to leave. He almost felt as though he was actually home which was bizarre, "I've got hunts to do and top secret messages to deliver." He winked at Sam and patted the front of his jacket where the letter was concealed causing the younger man to blush.

"Here, I'll see you out." Sam said while rising to his feet.

He led the way to the front door and grabbed a set of keys from a bowl beside the exit. Dean frowned in confusion. Why would he want a set of keys to Sam's apartment? Okay, that's a lie. He knew deep down that he would've loved keys to Sam's apartment even if he never actually used them at least they'd be a nice souvenir. Sam chuckled, drawing Dean from his thoughts. His laugh sounded like music in the quiet apartment. The hunter felt his stomach flip slightly but he tried to ignore it as it was weird even for him.

"Don't worry! I'm not asking you to move in. They're yours." Sam reassured Dean after witnessing the panic and confusion.

Upon closer inspection, Dean could tell that they were definitely keys to his Impala rather than Sam's front door. He couldn't decide whether to be disappointed or not. He knew that he'd only just met the man and it'd be crazy to be given keys on one encounter but Dean had never felt so at home anywhere beside Bobby's. He only hoped that fate might bring him here again.

Dean thanked him and scooped up his keys before heading out of the door. Sam halted his progress by grabbing his wrist. The hunter didn't know why his mind instantly wanted Sam to kiss him. Surely that's not right? Dean pondered. It was just a simple one night stand after all.

"Dean... I'm sorry."

"For what?" He asked.

"I hope you don't feel like I took advantage of you last night..." Sam said slowly. He looked guilt ridden and tired. Almost as though the harsh world had destroyed him. In that moment, Dean wanted to wrap his arms around him and protect him, "You're actually very good at acting a lot less drunk than you actually are. It wasn't till afterwards when you started mumbling rubbish before you fell asleep that I realised that you were pretty pissed." He swallowed, "I felt really bad especially when you mentioned that you'd only ever been with a guy a couple of times before."

Dean shook his head, "Not at all! I wouldn't have done anything I didn't like, even while drunk." He smiled at the other man and knew it was the truth, "The drinking thing is from practice with hustling and stuff but I promise you that there's no hard feelings. Just because I can't remember it doesn't mean that I didn't enjoy it."

"Thank you, Dean." Sam muttered quietly with a look of awe upon his face. It was almost like Sam couldn't believe that he'd been forgiven.

"Hey, anytime." Without thinking, Dean leant up and kissed Sam's cheek. Without another word he began to walk down the corridor and away from the apartment. His cheeks were burning as he realised what a girly last impression he made. A kiss on the cheek? It wasn't even on the lips! He didn't look back and was glad when he finally turned the corner.

If he had looked back he could have seen Sam grinning from ear to ear as he watched Dean go. The small kiss reassuring him that the night before hadn't just been from drunken stupor but maybe there was actually something there.

He could only hope.


	2. Chapter 2

Bobby made his way onto the porch as he heard the growl of the impala in the distance. It'd become a habit of his to come out and greet the boy which he'd practically adopted as a son. A grin broke out onto his bearded face as the car approached. He lifted an arm in a welcoming gesture as soon as Dean was close enough to make out his actions.

The younger hunter grinned when he saw the man that had become like a father to him. He missed the older man and mentally reminded himself to visit more often. The impala grumbled up to the house before Dean cut the engine and jumped out. He couldn't stop the smile on his face; it felt like coming home.

"How yer doin', son?" Bobby asked and slapped Dean on the shoulder.

"Good. Good. Been a long time." He muttered while glancing around fondly. Nothing in the old salvage yard a changed at all.

"Yeah," The old man agreed, "Too long. Now, are we goin' inside or lurkin' around on my porch?"

Dean followed the man into the house and straight into the kitchen. Bobby pulled out two beers from his fridge, like he did every time Dean visited. They leant up against the countertop and talked about their latest cases and caught up with hunter news. They were laughing about something Bobby had said when Dean suddenly remembered a promise he made a few weeks before and prayed that he hadn't left it too late.

"Oh! I just remembered," Dean muttered and searched around in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. In all honesty, he'd forgotten that he even had it on him, "This is meant for you."

Bobby took one look at the writing on the envelope before frowning and peering across at Dean, "Sam Wesson?" He asked curiously.

Dean shrugged, "Yeah. He asked me to give it to you."

"Now, what was a guy like you doing hanging around with Sam Wesson?" He inquired suspiciously. If Dean didn't know better, he'd say that the old man even sounded a little bit protective.

Dean didn't answer as he watched the other hunter open the letter. The young man became more confused as Bobby rolled his eyes and sighed. He pulled out the content and laid it on the table. There was a large wodge of money which was held together with an elastic band. Dean suddenly felt extremely guilty for carrying the letter in his jacket especially since there was every chance of his leather being destroyed on a case. He swallowed as Bobby pushed the money aside carelessly as though he got, what appeared to be, thousands of dollars in the mail everyday. Instead, he seemed more interested in the piece of lined paper that accompanied the green dollars.

"What is this?" Dean asked curiously as Bobby's eyes scanned over the hand written letter.

The old man sighed, "I asked him to find out about an ingredient I'd need for this curse. Originally, I'd assumed that it'd be illegal in the US but he's found a loophole and the cash for me to buy a bunch of it." He answered distractedly as he read.

"And he's sending you money because...?" Dean was beyond confused. The man he'd spent a drunken night with just happened to be sending Bobby large sums of money to help out with his hunting. Dean wondered if maybe he could get in on this sweet deal.

"I saved his life." Bobby said simply without hesitation or preamble. The young man blinked in shock and stared at the other.

"I'm sorry. You saved his life? When? How?"

The experienced hunter looked up from the paper, clearly finished reading, and rolled his eyes at Dean, "You seem awfully curious 'bout Sam since you only met him once... You sweet on the boy?" He asked, out of the blue.

"What? No!" He cried, "Why would I be?"

"Hey," Bobby raised his hands in a placating gesture, "I'm not one to judge. Sam is a good man after all so I couldn't care less whether he's gay or bisexual or whatever he is. You just have to keep away from him." He pointed his finger like a teacher scolding a student.

Dean was taken aback, "What do you mean?" He wasn't sure whether he should be concerned or offended. Probably offended.

"He is a good kid. He doesn't need someone like you breaking his heart!" Booby explained firmly.

"Who said that I'd break his heart?!"

"Please, Dean. Be realistic." He soothed in his usual gruff way, "It's just the hunter lifestyle; it doesn't allow for you to settle in one place.

The Winchester swallowed and looked down towards the floor. He knew that it was the way but in the short time he'd been there he had actually grown to like the man. He'd never do anything to hurt him.

"Yeah. I suppose..." He mumbled in defeat. Even if he wanted to be with Sam, he couldn't.

"I'm sorry, Dean but Sam has almost become like family to me. I can't see him get hurt again." Bobby placed a gentle hand on the younger's shoulder and squeezed.

Dean wanted to ask more about Sam but Bobby had already moved on and was rambling on about something else.

* * *

It was hours later, everything for Bobby's curse reversal spell had been ordered or procured from dodgy looking websites. The old hunter followed Sam's instructions and it had him slightly suspicious of how the name 'Sam Wesson' seemed to mean something to those people that ran the obviously black market sites.

The two hunters had wound down for the night and were sat watching a horrifically unrealistic horror film on Bobby's small screen TV. Their minds weren't focused on the narrative though as they were both lost in their own thoughts. There had been silence for over an hour so when Bobby spoke, Dean jumped.

"How did you meet Sam?" Curiosity coloured his tone. He peered across at Dean but the younger refused to meet his eyes.

Should I lie? Dean asked himself. Would Bobby get mad that I slept with Sam? Although, I can't even remember so technically it's all Sam's fault. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

"Just, you know, hanging around..." He answered vaguely and took a swill from his beer.

"Hanging around?" He scoffed, "No offence, son, but you and Sam don't 'hang around' the same places. How did you really meet?"

Dean knew that he couldn't lie to Bobby. He'd known the man way too long to be able to get away with it. To Bobby, he was like an open book. He decided on the truth, no matter how embarrassing that would be.

"Um, we slept together." He said quickly. He squeezed his eyes shut ready for the rage.

There was silence, aside from the TV. Dean cracked open one eye to peep around at the old man. Bobby had gone really red and his expression had frozen with his eyes wide and jaw hanging open. Crap, Dean thought to himself.

"You did what?" Each word had a heavy weight pressed upon it. Bobby hissed each word though his teeth.

"Well it wasn't really me. It was more Sam then me. I can barely remember any of it. I didn't know who he was." Dean garbled out in blind panic, "It was him. I was too drunk- Sam incited it!" He cried helplessly.

Bobby frowned in confusion, "Wait... It wasn't you?"

"Well, no. I was so pissed that I don't remember anything from that night. Sam even felt bad the next day because he felt like he'd used me! Obviously, he hadn't used me, I bet I had a great time, but... It wasn't my fault." He knew that he was probably getting Sam in trouble but he couldn't care at the moment as he was practically getting himself out of an early grave.

Bobby shook his head, "I expected more from Sam Wesson."

Dean smirked, "He's only human. How could he resist?" He shrunk back on himself under the fiercest of Bobby's glares.

"I thought you were getting yourself out of trouble?" He inquired making Dean pretend to zip his lip.

Bobby pulled himself up and strode over to the phone. Dean watched him curiously. The old man punched a few numbers into the phone and waited as it rang. Dean's eyes widened once he realised that the hunter was ringing up Sam. He wanted to beg him not to do it but it was already to late as Bobby had began to speak.

"Sam? It's Bobby... Yes, he's here and might I just say that I'm surprised with you," There was a pause and Dean assumed that Sam was fighting his corner, "Yes but... Sam, that's not fair... Really?... Maybe I should-..." Bobby leant against the table in the kitchen as he ran a weary hand over his face. Clearly, Sam was winning this little debate, "... You can, yes. I know, sorry... What? Yeah, I got it. Thanks..." Bobby chuckled slightly at something Sam said and the other hunter assumed that the non-hunter had gotten them off the hook, "Yeah, okay... I'll visit soon. Bye then, idjit."

Bobby was muttering to himself as he shuffled back over into the living room and retook his seat. He groaned to himself, "You can tell the boy is a flippin' lawyer."

A crease formed in between Dean's brows, "What d'ya mean?" He had no idea why but he'd suddenly felt very over protective of this man. He'd had a one night stand but now he felt like he was sort of attached to the lawyer.

The old hunter didn't realise that Dean had listened so jumped when the man spoke, "He can argue his way out of any situation."

Laughter bubbled into Dean's throat as he thought of Sam arguing with Bobby. He could imagine them having several arguments in the past and Sam winning them all. The old hunter could see Dean's smirk and wanted to slap him around the head. Shouldn't the young man be on his side?

"I can't imagine Sam getting really into an argument..." Dean pondered to nobody in particular. While at his flat, Sam had seemed kind, gentle and caring. He hadn't shown anything that would be considered cold or lawyerish.

Bobby chuckled, "Then you don't know Sam well enough. Trust me, it's quite a spectacle when he argues it out. He like to call it negotiations but it's obvious that he is just arguing until he's persuaded the poor idjit to agree with him."

Dean thought on that for a moment. He'd had no doubt that Sam was good at his job as the man had seemed very professional while he was there but still the idea of Sam shouting and getting angry really didn't fit the image that Dean had built up around the gentle giant. Maybe it was time to reevaluate?

"Hmm," Dean muttered.

"Are you going to see him again?" Bobby inquired, leaning his head curiously.

Shrugging, Dean turned his eyes away from the other man. He'd never started a long term relationship almost ever so this was uncharted territory for him, "I dunno. I'm not even sure that he liked me all that much..." Sure, Sam hadn't said anything that said he disliked Dean but he also hadn't specifically said that he'd like to meet up again.

There was silence for the briefest of moments before the old hunter spoke. This time he didn't look up at Dean instead he focused on the TV again, "Maybe you should just ask?"

Was it really that simple? Could he really just go straight out and ask? Although, he knew barely anything about the guy. Sam seemed nice but Dean wasn't even sure if he was actually gay or not. It may have just been some drunken experimentation on his part. He shrugged slightly and retreated in on himself to try, rather desperately, to deflect the questions.

The experienced hunter grumbled to himself at Dean's lack of communication but settled down without pushing the matter any further, much to the younger's relief. The old man rolled his eyes and sipped on his beer.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky by the time Dean finally woke up. It was verging on mid-day when the hunter sauntered down the stairs to find Bobby, who had probably been up since the crack of dawn. His hair was still sticking out at awkward angles and he kept rubbing his sleep filled eyes. He needed coffee to start off his day.

The living room, kitchen and study were as quiet as a library; only the sound of his own footsteps echoed around the old house. He searched for Bobby but knew that with an eerie silence like this, the likelihood was that the old man was out.

As if to confirm his suspicions, Dean found a note left on the countertop in the kitchen. It was written in Bobby's messy scrawl but Dean could easily decipher it, Gone to town to help Sheriff Mills. If you're gone before I get back, please take this letter to Sam if you plan to stop by. Bobby

The message obviously implied that the old hunter wanted the other man to visit Sam again. Maybe the old man was worried that Sam would feel used or something? He fingered the envelope on the counter. The letter was heavy and envelope was made of thick expensive paper which really wasn't Bobby's usual type. Dropping the letter into his inside pocket he vowed to deliver it in the next week or so. Even if it was only to drop it into the guy's post box.

Pulling together a sandwich, he snacked on it as he gathered all his stuff and chucked it into the back of the Impala. Satisfying an empty spot inside of him Dean finished the sandwich within minutes and was ready to once again get on the road. They'd been talk of spirit activity a few days drive from here so he decided to head in that direction. He lied to himself when he said that he wasn't heading that way just because Sam lived just one state over from the case.


	3. Chapter 3

_Why am I wake at this time?_ Sam asked himself as he hauled himself out of the warm embrace of his large king sized bed. No light shone through the curtains and the pitch black made the journey around his room difficult to navigate. He tripped over a pile of files sending them flying across the floor. He cursed under his breath and stuck his arms out to keep his balance.

Three nights of only a few hours of sleep was really beginning to catch up with the man as weariness was over taking him. He was really hoping on sleeping in for most of the morning to catch up as he didn't have to work on Sunday's. Being roused at God-knows what time in the morning really wasn't helping with his exhaustion.

The door bell cried out again, demanding his attention impatiently. He wanted to call out to the ringer to calm down and be patient but he really didn't want to anger his neighbors. He could hear banging on the door where the person seemed determined to wake the whole building. _Do they even know what time it is?_ Sam fumed to himself.

Despite looking like an idiot with his arms stretched out like a mummy and eyes squinting to see

Ahead of him, Sam quickly made it to the front door. He flipped the light switch beside him and suddenly it was bright like day. It burnt his tired eyes making the man grumble to himself. The thought that maybe he should put a T-shirt on came and went quickly as he was too tired to care.

The bell was halfway through another ring when Sam ripped the door open to confront the visitor. He froze when he saw who was there and what state the man was in.

"Dean?" Sam asked incredulously. Dean had almost convinced himself that Sam wouldn't have bothered remembering his name so it was a pleasant surprise. The topless lawyer continued speaking before the visitor could reply, "What happened to you?"

Dean looked down at himself and shrugged. His whole body swayed from side to side. Maybe he'd had a little too much to drink before coming here. He had to do something but his alcohol addled brain couldn't remember what despite that the envelope was still in his pocket, resting against his chest. He didn't seem to pay any attention to the blood that was staining his clothes and drying on his skin.

"Oh God," Sam muttered as he yanked the intoxicated man inside his apartment, "Is this yours?" Sam asked desperately while gesturing to the crimson liquid.

The hunter squinted down at himself as though he was trying to deduce whether it was his blood or someone/something else's. He swayed even more while his head was ducked so Sam had to grab onto him to stop the man toppling over.

"Some of it's probably mine... S'belonged to an m'ster" He slurred while stumbling further into the clean living room. The apartment was quite big for one person but Dean guessed that lawyers make a lot of money so can afford fancy homes.

"Some is from a monster?" Sam tried to understand his drunken words, "You were hunting in this state?!" He couldn't help the need to protect this man that flooded through his body.

"Nah," Dean muttered distractedly as he leant against Sam's strong frame to keep himself upright. He hoped that no blood was soaking into his pyjama pants, "It jump out to me." Dean reached up to try and touch the soft looking brown hair that was still messed up from sleep. The taller man gently stopped him from touching him.

"So you were drunk and it attacked you?" He tried to understand the situation.

"Good job, Sammy!" He clapped like a happy child, "No wonder you make a good lawyerer... Law-er? Lawyerer?"

"You mean lawyer? And please, don't call me Sammy. That's a chubby twelve year old." He begged.

Dean seemed tired as he closed his eyes and seemed to settle down to sleep while standing against Sam's bare chest. The younger man pulled a face as the hunter was smearing blood over his skin. The red substance was mostly dry and it had begun to flake off onto his carpet. That was the last straw for Sam so he pulled the man towards the bathroom.

He threw back the shower curtain and turned on the water quickly. He had the determination of a man on a mission so didn't seem to care as some water made it onto the floor.

"This is not sexual. It's purely because you're covered in blood which is disgusting." Sam told the drunk man clearly so Dean wouldn't panic even though the hunter clearly wasn't in the headspace for thinking. He pulled off Dean's clothes one piece at a time until the man was completely naked but still at the same stage of intoxication. Dumping the clothes in the corner, Sam set a mental reminder to stick them in the washing machine or maybe even bin the worse for wear clothes.

He helped an uncoordinated Dean Winchester into the shower as the man nearly fell several times when he attempted to get in without assistance. Sam had to hold Dean up as the warm water washed over the drunkard. At this point, Sam was glad of his shirtlessness as it would have been bloody, wet and horrid to wear.

Much of the blood washed off easily but some of it required some scrubbing which was majorly uncomfortable for Sam. He still found this man attractive so having to scrub at his skin while he was naked in the shower wasn't exactly the best for him right now. He definitely didn't want to have sex with Dean while he was in this state. He'd accidentally bedded the man once before while he was verging on drunk so he was determined not to make it a common occurrence.

"Sammy! I'm tired." Dean grumbled as though he didn't even notice Sam's hands all over his body. Although, the man probably didn't as at this stage of drunkenness, not much really registered. Last time Sam had seen Dean drunk, the older man was making a conscious effort to act sober and he really was a good actor.

"Five more minutes, Dean. Then off to bed, I promise." The dried blood was beginning to all come off leaving Dean fresh and like brand new.

"Okay, big guy." Sam muttered, "Ready to get out?"

With his arms wrapped around the man, Sam managed, with some difficulty, to get the hunter out of the shower and a fluffy towel around his muscular frame. Small cuts and gashes decorated the man's body but nothing that wouldn't heal in its own. He was tempted to sew one on his torso side together but it was beginning to stop bleeding so instead Sam just bandaged it up. He hoped that it was the right move.

The man was dry within minutes so the taller man ushered him towards his bedroom. A pair of sweats were pulled from the cupboard and pulled onto the hunter's legs as the man laid back against the soft material of the duvet. The pants were slightly too long but Sam shrugged and just pulled a T-shirt over the man's head as well. It was also too big but Sam doubted that there was anything much smaller in his chest of drawers.

"Come on," The lawyer encouraged like he was calling a dog over.

It took all of his strength but he finally managed to haul a heavy-ass hunter up to the top of the bed where he rested his head against his pillows. His first-aid sense kicked in so he put him on his front just in case he was to puke in the night. He didn't want vomit on his bed but he really really didn't want a dead Dean Winchester on his bed even more. He kind of liked the guy. Pulling up the duvet, Sam tucked in the big bad hunter and watched him snore for a moment. A smile crept onto his features.

The young man considered slipping into the bed beside Dean but stopped himself. He really didn't want the other man to think that there'd been a repeat of last time. He stared at his nice large, warm bed with longing in his eye but resisted the temptation. He smoothed his fingers through the hunter's hair instead.

He grabbed one of the pillows that Dean wasn't using and a spare blanket from the wardrobe to make himself a bed on his couch. It was too short for him, the blanket was too thin and his lounge was cold but he remained there never the less. After all, being incredibly stubborn was one of his most prominent qualities.

He eventually fell asleep about an hour later with his feet hanging off the end of the couch and his neck bent at a really awkward angle. He was going to be sore in the morning.

* * *

An alarm blared out from beside him, dragging him to consciousness despite his attempts to remain asleep. Dean blinked open his eyelids and immediately the sun burnt at the sore green eyes. His head's pounding and the alarm's shrill seemed in be in synchronise. He slapped a hand out to put a cease to the infernal racket. The glowing digits on the alarm's front indicated that it was 9:30am. A frown pulled down at the corner of his lips as he didn't remember setting an alarm. Although, he couldn't remember much after stumbling out of the bar and a werewolf jumping him on the way to the Impala. At least he'd survived, he supposed.

He blinked around to get a look at the motel room that he'd crashed in over night. Everything about him froze, aside from his churning stomach, as he instantly recognized the bedroom that he was in.

"Sam." He muttered almost silently. His voice was rough like sandpaper and seriously hurt to swallow. He wondered why all their encounters seemed to happen while Dean was absolutely wasted. He couldn't help but be curious to whether they'd had sex again.

The hunter had been spread out in the middle of the bed on his stomach. It really didn't seem like there'd be enough room for anyone to sleep either side of him despite it being a big bed as Sam was a gigantic man. His stomach sloshed in complaint of its treatment last night. He stretched but a pain in his side had him wincing and curling in on himself.

He pulled up the apparently borrowed T-shirt to peer down at the bandaging on his side beneath his ribs. He pulled it away to inspect the wound and could see why Sam had decided on bandaging instead of stitches. It probably would have only required one stitch as it wasn't deep all the way along but getting it sewn up wasn't really all that important.

Instead, the hunter got up, puked in the toilet and then began the search for his host.

It wasn't hard to find Sam. The man seemed to dwarf the couch so it was pretty hard to miss him. His neck was bent at a weird angle as the pillow and arm of the couch had just acted to push his head up. The thin blanket was tossed carelessly over the large body but had clearly slipped off during the night so the majority of topless Sam was on display; it surprised Dean with how much he enjoyed the view.

Unsure on what to do, Dean perched on an armchair close to the side of the couch by Sam's feet. While waiting for the man to awaken Dean rolled up the bottom of his sweatpants to make them more suited to his slightly shorter legs. He wondered if Sam had to shop somewhere special for Sasquatches. His stomach grumbled loudly but he didn't want to go rummaging through another man's kitchen. The hunter knew that Sam wasn't the type to mind but he didn't want to just in case.

He watched Sam for quite a while and as he did questions popped into his head. Why was Sam sleeping on the couch? Didn't he want to share with Dean? They'd shared before so there shouldn't have been a problem, right? The young man frowned in confusion. Maybe Bobby was wrong. Maybe Sam didn't want a long and meaningful relationship so hadn't shared a bed to ensure that Dean got the message?

His thoughts ceases when movement came from the couch. Sam seemed to be stirring as he began to shift around with a frown on his lips as he couldn't figure out how he'd ended up not in bed. He cracked his eyes open and jumped when he saw Dean peering across at him.

Holding a hand to his pounding chest, Sam gasped, "Dean! You gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry..." Dean mumbled quietly as he tried to ignore the urge to vomit again.

"Nah, don't worry about it." Sam pulled himself up so he was sitting up but his legs were still spread out on the couch. The tired man inspected his guest from across the distance between them, "You look awful, man."

Pale skin, clammy palms and red eyes; Dean's hangover had hit hard and he knew it. He could feel it too. It felt somewhat akin to being hit but a trunk several times in a row although he was sure that some of the pain could be contributed to the werewolf attack, "Yeah? Well, you don't look like a bucket of daisies yourself, pal." He hoped that his words didn't come out too harsh. He immediately felt guilty when Sam ran a hand down his weary face.

"Yeah, I know. Works been getting to me," Sam looked away as though admitting his exhausted was weak, "Lots of stress, ya know?" When the man looked up into Dean's eyes, the hunter could see the heavy, dark bags that plagued the area beneath his hazel eyes.

"Sorry, man. I shouldn't have been so harsh..."

Sam chuckled slightly, "Don't worry about it. I know that it's the truth anyway."

"Stressed a lot then?" The older man asked hesitantly.

Sam chuckled darkly and without humor, "You could say that..." The tall man rubbed the back of his head and ran a hand through his sleep tussled hair. Yawning, he flashed his white teeth and pink tongue. Dean's stomach flipped. He blinked at himself in shock; since when has a man yawning tuned him on?

"Breakfast?" Sam asked drowsily.

Nodding, Dean followed the lawyer to the bar in the kitchen where Sam had served breakfast last time he'd stayed over. The metal of the frying pan touched the warming stove as Sam prepared to cook but the man seemed out of it.

The hunter's host rubbed his hazel eyes as he peer unseeingly into the pan as it heated. His mind seemed to drift as he remained stock still. A frown decorated Dean's face when he saw the tall man begin to sway slightly. Exhaustion was getting to the man who seemed to always have it together. Maybe that was the price from being perfect? You have to sacrifice something.

"Sam?" There was no response, "Sam!"

Sam suddenly jolted like he'd just woken up from a deep sleep, "Hmm? Yeah?"

"Here, let me." Dean gestured for Sam to sit on his chair as he began to rise to his feet.

The tall man slumped down onto the chair, lacking any of his usual grace. Resting his head in his palm, Sam gazed at Dean as he cooked some eggs.

The queasy feeling still stuck in his stomach but he was able to push it aside. Sam had been a kind enough host anyway without him pushing his hangover onto him too. A deep breath calmed his stomach and allowed him to focus back onto the food. He poked them with a spatula, mostly to keep himself entertained, as he waited.

"I'm sorry, Sam." Dean managed after a few minutes of thinking over his drunken behaviour.

"For what?" The lawyer perked his head up.

Dean sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I ruined a much needed nights sleep."

"Nah," Sam yawned, "Don't worry about it."

"And I made a drunken ass of myself again."

Sam smiled lightly as he fiddled with odd objects that he found on the table. A light tapping noise echoed around the quiet area as the tall man distracted his fingers. He was clearly listening even if he lacked the energy to form any sort of response.

"I'll make it up to you by making you a delicious breakfast then getting out of your way so you can actually get back into bed." Dean negotiated, "Sound like a plan?"

Sam merely nodded wearily.

* * *

They both only picked at the breakfast. One too tired and one too hungover. They both decided they really didn't want to participate in the social convention of breakfast at around the same time. Dean began to haul on his jacket but Sam stopped him with a tired hand on the shoulder.

"I'm not the kind of man..." He yawned, "To kick out a guest while they're hungover."

The taller man wrapped his hand around Dean's wrist and led him to the bedroom. Sam jumped into the bed and pulled the duvet up high. Dean stripped off his tshirt before sliding in next to his host.

Sam shuffled forward and wrapped an arm around Dean's torso. He only held gently so Dean could push him away if he wanted. Instead, Dean put an arm up around Sam's shoulders and pulled him closer.

It wasn't long until they were both asleep.

* * *

-A month later-

"Sam." Dean mumbled into his partner's hair, "Your cell is ringing."

The lawyer huffed before throwing out an arm to grope for his phone. All while keeping his eyes closed and face muffled in Dean's chest. He pulled the cell to his ear and opened the call.

"Mhhh?"

"Sam? What's wrong? Are you okay?" Bobby asked, concerned.

"Mh, fine."

"Okay... Have you heard from Dean? I haven't seen him in a few weeks and he wasn't answering his phone last night?" The old hunter explained.

However, the lawyer only heard half of the questions as he immediately held the phone against Dean's ear while still not moving for him comfortable position. Dean mumbled in surprise at first before he managed to answer.

"Yeah, Bobby. I'm here."

There was a brief silence,"What are you doing at Sam's apartment?" He sounded suspicious.

"I've been staying at Sammy's a bit over the last few weeks. Whenever I'm passing through or nearby." He wasn't going to admit that he'd made a 3 hour detour from his journey to his next case to spend the night curled up with Sam.

"Why?" The man's voice came through the phone.

"I don't know. I think I like him." He murmured. His fingers began to draw patterns on his partner's back. He could feel Sam almost purr with delight. "I want to keep him but he says he won't even consider packing up the day job." He chuckled.

Sam huffed but couldn't hide the humour in his voice, "I'm not a stray dog, Dean."

Dean waited to hear Bobby's response, "I'm happy for you two." He spoke gently. "I may hate to admit it but you really do suit each other. He'll be a good influence on you but remember that if you hurt him..."

"You'll rip out my spleen?" He tried to sound serious but he just found himself so damn funny. He chuckled.

"Stop winding him up, Dean." Sam scolded, taking the phone from his lover. "Thanks for calling, Bobby. I'll send you a message later." Sam murmured before switching off the phone and dumping it on the side table.

He curled into Dean again and "mmhhhhed" in satisfaction.

* * *

\- 4 Months Later-

"Sam!" Bobby cried, delighted to see the man, "It's been over a year!"

Sam grinned at him, his hand intertwined with Dean's, "Next time we have to get together sooner!" He stepped forward to wrap an arm around the old hunter. Bobby embraced him back like a son.

"Dean!" Bobby greeted the hunter next with a bear hug, "Why didn't you drag Sam down here sooner? How've you been?"

The Winchester chuckled and stepped in off the porch, "I'm real good thanks. You know how Sam can be when it comes to work! I couldn't even rip a case file from his fingers for this week stay! Such a workaholic!"

"I'm not a workaholic. I'm just dedicated to my clients." Sam's statement rang only partly true with everyone in the room, even himself. He rolled his eyes when the men just stared at him blankly. He strutted into the living room set down his bags but bobby stopped him and instead waved him straight upstairs.

The couple peered into the spare room with its two single beds and chuckled. They took a side each and pushed them together to form one decent sized bed. They grinned at each other.

"Look," Bobby sighed, poking his head around the doorway, "Do what you want with the beds but I don't want to be woken up at 2am by strange noises."

"Don't worry, Bobby." Sam smirked, mischievously, "All of Dean's noises are relatively normal."

Both the hunters paled and the elder nodded quickly before hurrying back down the stairs. Sam, meanwhile, was red with laughter.

"You shouldn't tease him like that!" Dean scolded.

Sam poked his tongue out and flopped onto their bed. He grinned. "What are you going to do about it?"

Dean grinned back and marched over to the other man threateningly before relaxing and pulling him in for a hug.

"Thank you, Sammy."

"For what?"

Dean chuckled, "For taking me home that first night." He kissed him softly.

* * *

 _ **Thank you so much for all the reviews and favourites! It really makes my day! I hope you enjoyed this little story and please make sure you check out my other works X**_


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